


Safe

by rizzbug



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:12:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizzbug/pseuds/rizzbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world comes in flashes after they plunge off the cliff.</p><p>~Spoilers for the Finale~</p><p>Fluff, teeny bits of angst. Not sure yet if it will be just a oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Omgggg that finaleeeeeeee!!! My brain immediately went into overdrive trying to figure out what was next for Will and Hannibal. I'm not sure if I will continue this or if it'll stand on its own. We'll see!

Losing so much blood should have put him out.

Unfortunately, he isn't so lucky.

The cold water wakes him up instantaneously when they hit it, and the impact of hitting the water immobilizes him. A strong arm grabs him from around his waist and tugs him to the surface. He doesn’t have to look to know who it is, which is good because he doesn’t have the strength to turn his head.

He gasps and sputters once his head is above water, and then feels the adrenaline leaving him too quickly. His body’s struggle for air was the last thing keeping him any sort of conscious and now that he’s above water his injuries are catching up to him fast. His cheek is throbbing something fierce and his chest is thundering with pain thanks to the impact and the stab wound.

A knowing hand covers the wound, and then Will feels a surge of safety. He will be taken care of. Before he passes out, Hannibal’s voice reassures him over the sound of rolling water.

“I’ve got you.”

\-----

The world appears to him in short glimpses after that.

He feels the gentle rock of calm waters. Being dragged in soft, warm sand. A door opening, and closing again.

A hand pressing against his forehead gently.

_'Sweet boy.'_

\----

As his body slowly becomes aware of itself he can feel a gentle sway, but he doesn't feel water. He feels warm. Confused, he slides his eyes open. Almost immediately he regrets it. He feels as if he could sleep for ages. But he forces himself to look around and ignore the ache he feels in his eyes every time he moves them. He’s in some sort of room. The blinds over the single window keep the sun out, but there is just enough light to see a pile of wet clothes on the floor in a corner of the room, along with two pairs of shoes. He looks down and finds himself covered in a wool blanket with a plain shirt and boxers underneath. Where did….

He lifts his chin again and continues to look around. The walls are bare. This isn’t like Hannibal, whose love for decor and flourish is always apparent wherever he goes.

Will closes his eyes and sighs, sinking further into the mattress under him. All of this looking around has exhausted him. He’s already half asleep again before a single thought floats to the front of his mind.

_Hannibal...where is he Hannibal?_

He doesn’t stay awake long enough to find out.

\----

Flashes of sunlight illuminate his eyelids, and he opens his eyes again.. He’s not in a bed anymore. He’s being carried by someone, his head laid against their broad chest. In his immediate sight he can see grass, but not much else. As he slowly becomes aware of himself, he finds that he’s wrapped up in the same wool blanket. A soft breeze tickles his bare feet, and he smiles faintly, immediately regretting it. Something pulls at the wound in his cheek and he groans.

The person carrying him stops, and Hannibal is speaking to him. “Will?” His voice is, rough from...exhaustion? Worry? A kiss is pressed to the top of Will’s head. “We’ll be there soon.”

For once in his life Will doesn’t feel the need to dissect what Hannibal just said. He doesn’t care where ‘there’ is. They are together. That’s all that matters.

“Remarkable boy.” Will hears before he closes his eyes and falls asleep again.

\-----

Will can’t remember the last time he woke up feeling rested. But when he opens his eyes again, he imagines this must be what rested feels like. He s in another bed with warm blankets covering him, keeping him warm. The pillow under his head feels like a cloud, and he doesn’t want to move for fear of losing the perfect spot.He looks around and his eyes do not protest this time. The rich wood paneling, intricate designs on the door across from him, golden accents on the ceiling and expensive-looking paintings on the wall next to a full bookcase tell him this is a safe place. This is Hannibal’s.

He looks down at himself and lifts a hand to pluck at the deep red shirt he has on. Silk, of course. He smiles and then immediately winces as something sharp pulls at his cheek again. He lifts a hand and finds a bandage on his cheek. Using his tongue, he probes against the cheek in question and finds thick thread there. Stitches...duh.

As he wakes up more, his body throbs as it becomes aware of itself and Will closes his eyes again. His body is tired but his mind is awake. He opens his eyes again to sweep the room and stops when he comes to the chair next to his bed. It is occupied, and the sting of stitches in his cheek cannot stop him from smiling at the sight.

Hannibal’s head rests against the back of the gilded chair, his hands on the armrests and his ankles crossed and feet extended in front of him. Will has no idea where he found the cardigan and black pants he was wearing, but he wasn’t surprised. Not a hair out of place, though…

Will sat up slowly and leaned toward the man. He has dark shadows under his closed eyes, and his face was slightly scrunched up in his sleep as if he were dreaming about something upsetting. 

Testing his feet, and then his legs, Will slowly pulled the blankets from over his legs and got up off of the bed. He shivers when he makes contact with the tiled floor and decides to grab a blanket from the bed. He walks the two steps over to Hannibal and looks down at him. For a moment Will feels so juvenile with the corner of a blanket in one fist, messy curls falling over his eyes as he looks down at Hannibal, ready to wake the man up.

_I should let him sleep…_

_But…_

\--

Hannibal wakes with a start. 

Something had woken him, but before he has time to panic a weight in his lap forces him to look down. His heart aches when he finds Will there, curled up against his chest, blanket pulled around him and over Hannibal’s shoulders. His lashes dust his cheeks, and Hannibal can feel him breathing deeply. 

This is all he ever wanted for them.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will and holds him closer, careful not to hold him too tightly. He buries his nose in Will’s unruly hair and inhales deeply.

They would be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Hannibal leaving Will alone as he runs errands, he comes back to two place settings at the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully by now most of you have seen the series finale! AHHH!!! SO GOOD! I've already watched it a million times over, and now I've started rewatching from season 1. I just love Hannibal and Will so much!!!
> 
> Also thank you all so much for reading this and all your kind comments!! I've not had a fandom I've wanted to write so much for in a while so I am super excited about this! I'm not sure how many more chapters will go up but I am working on another one already...I will try to post once a week! In the meantime, enjoy!

The sun beat down on his back as he walked the small dirt walkway to the front door, the thickness of his sweater amplifying the heat. He had gotten used to the cold Baltimore weather, he would get used to the sun again.

Hannibal shifted the bag of food he was holding into one arm as he used the other to unlock and open the front door. As he turned around to lock it again the smells of the house slowly filtered over him. The faint smell of dust, cedar, flowers and…

He shifted his gaze towards the kitchen. He hadn’t left the stove on before he left. Town was much too far away for him to do that, and he had also left Will asleep. Something was wrong. Someone was here.

Silently he toed out of his shoes and set the bag of food down, taking great care to make sure nothing shifted and made a noise. He made his way across the hardwood floors to the kitchen, barely breathing, not making a single sound. He was without a knife but his hands were dangerous enough. Whoever dared to invade this home would not live long enough to regret it.

He looked down at the shadows the sunlight coming through the windows cast, making sure he did not give himself away. Slowly he peeked into the kitchen.

Nothing.

After a few more seconds he walked cautiously on. The stove was off now, but it had been on not too long ago. He could still smell the gas. There was a dirty pan left on one of the burners and he ran a finger against the gray smudges inside of it.

...Oatmeal. Taken out a little too soon.

Looking around further he found the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice he had made the night before on the counter, now half empty. 

Before he could look any further, a soft sound caught his attention. He moved quickly and quietly into the adjacent dining room, grabbing a knife from the block on the counter. He kept it behind his back and took a step into the dining room. What greeted him there caught him off guard altogether.

Will was sitting at the right of the head of the table, curled up in his blanket he had dragged from his bed. Hannibal could see his knees were pulled up to his chest, shins against the armrest of the chair and head tilted back, slightly tipping over to his shoulder. He let out another soft snore, and Hannibal felt his insides warm.

Will was safe.

And hungry, apparently. A mostly-eaten bowl of oatmeal sat in front of him, the spoon still resting against the side of the bowl, and an empty glass with the remnants of pulp at the bottom next to it.

In front of the empty chair at the head of the table sat a full bowl of oatmeal and a full glass of orange juice, and Hannibal was confused. Had someone else been there after all?

After circling the dining room and checking under the table, he set the knife on the table and leaned against it, content to watch Will sleep for a moment. Danger was not imminent, he would indulge himself in this.

All of the sleep Will had been getting lately had been doing him good. The bags under his eyes were slowly starting to fade and his cheeks did not look so sunken in anymore. Hannibal couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. He was providing well for the boy and it was showing. He was taking care of Will and Will was accepting it beautifully.

Unfortunately, a dining room chair did not seem like the best place for Will to get the most out of his sleep, and Hannibal would no doubt have to wake him to move him. He could use the opportunity to ask about the other place setting.

Kneeling next to the chair, Hannibal couldn’t help but stare at Will for a moment. Will’s hair had gotten a bit longer since they arrived, and his curls were growing over his forehead again. It had bothered Hannibal to see the subtle changes in Will during their visits at the BHCI. No curls brushing his soft forehead. His sharp chin. His darkened eyes. He look ed severe, angrier. It pleased Hannibal to see the dark curls growing and falling gently above Will’s eyebrows. 

Will’s facial hair was also growing back with a vengeance. Hannibal would have to shave it for him soon, and the thought of running a straight razor against sweet Will’s neck caused a low heat in his stomach to pulse.

Of course he would have to be conscious for that. It wouldn’t do to have taken care of Will for so long only to lose him due to a horribly-placed razor and Will jerking awake at the wrong time. 

He was reluctant but Hannibal reached up and pressed the palm of his hand gently against Will’s forehead. “Will?” He called softly.

It took a couple of times, but soon Will’s lashes fluttered and he hummed from deep in his chest. Hannibal chuckled. “I hope you were not eating in your sleep this time.” He said, really only half joking. 

Will blinked languidly and took a second to focus his gaze on Hannibal. “Oh. You’re back.” he mumbled. A slow and sleepy smile stretched across his face. “Hi.” He whispered, and Hannibal’s heart swelled. “Hello.” He murmured. “Did you have a guest for breakfast this morning?”

Will look confused and the gears in Hannibal’s mind started to turn quickly, trying to determine who might have been here, who could have possibly found them, how he didn’t smell them, and where they had gone.

“What? Oh, no, I…” Will cleared his throat and looked away from Hannibal, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. “Who would I have invited?” 

Hannibal had a few people in mind. People who would have definitely made the trip, to save Will, to kill Hannibal.

“I mean,” Will’s voice brought Hannibal back from his dark thoughts, and Hannibal was surprised to see that Will was blushing ever so slightly as he spoke. His fever had broken a couple of days ago so it wasn’t that. “I was having a dream, and then I woke up and I wondered if….” He trailed off and then turned his attention to his lap where his fingers were twisting a corner of the blanket nervously.

Hannibal’s shoulders sagged slightly. He was relieved to hear there were no surprise guests and his defenses lowered. He inhaled, and then looked over the table again. Saw Will staring at him wide-eyed from his chair. The oatmeal waited for him at the head of the table, and it took another solid minute of staring at it before realization struck him..

“Its for me, then?”

Will nodded silently, and Hannibal felt a surge of joy in every cell in his body. Will had made him breakfast. Will had woken up and thought about him, wanted to give him something. Wanted to feed him. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Will’s head before going to the head of the table and sitting. 

While he wasn’t in a pristine suit, Hannibal held himself as if he were back in his dining room in Baltimore. He sat with his back straight, smoothed a hand over his cardigan and picked up the cloth napkin Will had left haphazardly next to the bowl. Folding and setting the napkin on his lap, Hannibal then picked up the spoon up and started in on his meal, taking the time to savor each bite.

The house was quiet. Will had taken to watching Hannibal eat. He was wary and nervous. The dinner parties Hannibal used to throw had been popular. People talked about them, raved about them. And Hannibal had fed Will more than a few times. Will knew Hannibal’s food, and this oatmeal was dirt in comparison. He ducked his head and felt strange and a little ashamed he had even tried.

But….Hannibal was eating it. Of course he would, though. To do anything else would be rude.

“Did you sleep well?”

Will looked back over to him and nodded. “Yeah, thanks. That bed is really something.”  
That seemed to please Hannibal by the way he lifted his chin slightly. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“What about you?”

Hannibal picked up the napkin from his lap and dabbed at his mouth. “I slept an adequate amount. Thank you for the meal.”

Will looked at his bowl. He couldn’t help but do a double-take. “Y-You finished.”

“Indeed. Is there more?”

“More?!” Will’s voice rose a couple of octaves and Hannibal looked bemused. “Is there something wrong?”

Will shook his head. “No, I...well I’m just surprised you’re not throwing up is all.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well I’m no you, that’s for sure.”

Hannibal nodded. “I am very aware of who you are, Former Special Agent Graham.” Will smirked. “Don’t be a smartass. I’m not a cook. I can feel a hole burning through my stomach from that food as we speak.”

“Shall I sew it up for you?”

Will’s left eye twitched slightly, and it was Hannibal’s turn to stare unabashedly at him. “I believe I could find a few medical-grade scalpels in town. I could cut you open, sew up your stomach. Perhaps rearrange your organs slightly in order to make sure I stitched up all the holes inside of you, and then put you back together again.”

It was a wonder that only a few years ago Will tried so hard to avoid eye contact, and now here he was staring someone like Hannibal dead in the eye. Then again, Hannibal wasn’t most people.

“I’d let you.”

“And you’d walk around knowing I had been inside of you, touched you in one of the most intimate ways a human could touch another human. My fingerprints would be on you forever.”  
Will leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He knew he did a terrible job of trying to hide the shiver that ran down his spine. “No gloves, Doctor?”

“What is a few germs between friends?”

Will barked out a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“What had you wondered?”

Will opened only one eye to look at the other man. “About what?”

Hannibal was taking a sip of the orange juice. He set the glass down and licked his lips before speaking again. “You said you had a dream, and then woke up and wondered something. What had you wondered?”

“Oh.” Will lifted and dropped his good shoulder in a half-assed shrug. “I just wondered if anyone had ever made you breakfast.”

Hannibal finished off his orange juice and leaned back slightly in his chair. “No one who mattered.”

“I matter to you?”

The question was, admittedly, very stupid given their history. So stupid that Hannibal snorted, and Will couldn’t recall if he had ever done that before. “We have not known each other long, so it may come as a surprise to you that not all of my relationships involve plunging over cliffs.”

Will clicked his tongue. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Doctor.”

“I believe it has already gotten me very far.”

“So this is a relationship.”

Hannibal was quiet, and this intrigued Will. He sat up straight and opened both his eyes, folding his hands on the table. 

Hannibal exhaled deeply and put his napkin on the table next to his bowl. “Are we going to do this over breakfast, then?” 

"You started it." Will bit back. “Bedelia told me that I nourished you.” He swallowed hard and Hannibal could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Despite his straight spine Hannibal could smell the fear on him. “That I...sated your hunger.”

Hannibal made a mental note to visit Bedelia again sometime. Perhaps he would use the visit to remind her of the sanctity of patient confidentiality. “Did you present her with a warrant prior to receiving this information?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Hannibal smiled. While some changes in Will did not please him, the fangs he had suddenly grown amused Hannibal greatly. It made things all the more interesting and fun. Will had never been his prey, and so Hannibal enjoyed the struggle. “Am I being ridiculous?”

Will thought about it for a moment before he smiled a little. “No more than usual, I guess. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t believe you asked me one.”

“Is this a relationship?”

Hannibal’s gaze flickered to the knife still sitting on the table. Out of the corner he could see Will look at the knife a few moments later.

“Are you going to kill me, Hannibal?”

“There were plenty of prior opportunities.” Hannibal said plainly, looking away from the knife and averting his attention to his empty bowl.“The latest would have been to leave you to the mercy of the waters.”

“That was never your style, though, was it?”

“I’m not sure about that.”

Will snorted. “You’re right. Jumping off a cliff is pretty theatrical.”

Hannibal smiled. “You seem to have acquired a taste for the theatrical.”

“I’ve acquired a lot of new tastes.” Will said without venom in his voice. 

Hannibal regarded him quietly. “As have I.”

Will stood up slowly from his chair, letting the blanket fall and pool around his ankles. He walked slowly over to Hannibal. He grabbed the knife from the table and stood behind Hannibal’s chair. Hannibal picked up the glass and finished off the orange juice, sighing contentedly. The juice was delicious. “Are you going to kill me, Will?”

He didn’t flinch when he felt cold steel pressed against his throat. The blade was firm against his skin but it did not cut. It was not steady either. 

“Like I said, Doctor, I acquired a lot of new tastes.”

“I seem to recall murder is an old taste of yours.”

Will’s wrist twitched slightly and the knife bit harder at Hannibal. “Answer me.”

“Would you like it to be a relationship?”

Will laughed bitterly. “Answering a question with a question? That’s not very polite.”

“You’re right, I apologize.”

Will’s hand was trembling hard now, and the blade pulled at Hannibal’s skin. Hannibal put a hand over Will’s wrist, steadying it but not moving it at all. “I am not unselfish, Will. I do not deny myself anything I desire. I provide the best for myself. I suppose that makes me a narcissist.” He lowered Will’s hand slightly and kissed the inside of his wrist. “I take what I want when it pleases me. However….” He looked up into Will’s eyes, wide and full of tears. “Some things taste better when freely given.”

Will swallowed hard. “Is that what you’ve been doing? What you’ve been waiting for?”

Hannibal brushed the tip of his nose against the pulse in Will’s wrist, inhaling. “Bedelia was not wrong. You fill me so very completely. You are the living meal to a hunger I hadn’t realized was there, and I cannot simply let go of that which gives me sates me in a way I have not felt before.” He closed his eyes. “I can only hope you feel the same, have hoped you would feel the same, but I would not wish to force you.”

They stayed this way for so long that Will’s calves ached and his fingers cramped around the knife. His mouth felt dry and his head was throbbing. It was all so much. Hannibal was so much. But was it too much?

“...I’m tired.”

Hannibal’s eyes flickered open. He was unaware he had even closed them. He pressed a soft kiss to Will’s pulsepoint and stood up slowly, looking to Will’s face, and then to the knife in his hand. Will looked down at the knife as well, then tossed it onto the ground. Hannibal couldn’t help the tin lift of the corner of his mouth. “That seems dangerous.”

Will didn’t blink. “What else is new with us?” He reached his hands over and wrapped them around Hannibal’s neck. “Take me to bed.”

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s middle and squeezed gently. 

“Okay.”

Will leaned against Hannibal heavily, and together they stepped over the knife and walked into the depths of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The reality of our situation is settling in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! The only note I have is to make sure ya'll check the tags. They'll be updated with each chapter. Enjoy!!

“I think it's time we find some you some new clothes.”

Will looked up from his book and turned his gaze to Hannibal. HIs face was illuminated soley by the crackling fireplace and Will couldn’t help but find it ironic how much he looked like an evil villain. “I have new clothes.” Will said slowly, careful of the stitches in his cheek. “You bought them for me.”

Day by day Will found all this rest he was suddenly getting gave him more energy, and used it to walk around the mansion. He found Hannibal had been preparing the house for him. There were flannel shirts hanging next to suits, jeans next to slacks, thick jackets, anything that Will might have worn at home was here, brand new and waiting for him. But it wasn’t like he was going many places these days. The fear of being found kept him in the house so he felt he didn’t need an expansive wardrobe.

Hannibal didn’t look up from his own book. “If it's all the same, I would like to take you into town. You may find something you like that I hadn’t picked up, perhaps something that suits you more.” He finally looked over at Will, his eyes dark in the dim light of the fire. “If you’re feeling well, of course.”

Will cushioned his good cheek on his hand, leaned his elbow on the armrest of the chair and stared at Hannibal with an almost exasperated look. He had been cooped up in the house for a while now, and while he appreciated the much-needed rest his legs could use a stretch. “I mean, twist my arm here.”

Hannibal nodded, smiled slightly, and looked back down at his book. “Very well.”

Will looked back down at his book but was no longer retaining the words printed there. He didn’t ask many questions since he had woken up in this place. He really didn’t even know where they were. He knew it took Hannibal an hour and seven minutes to drive back from town when he went to get food and supplies. He knew from looking out the windows there was only land as far as the eye could see with rolling hills in the distance. They didn’t have neighbors, that he could see anyway. No television, no landlines or any cell phones to speak of. They were essentially alone out here, which he supposed was best for two men on the run. It still didn’t entirely quell his fear of being found by the police or the FBI though.

“Hannibal?” Will croaked. He hadn’t meant that to sound as pathetic as it had, and the way Hannibal jerked his head to look at him made him feel guilty. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Sorry, I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, the movement tugging slightly at the stitches in his chest. “I had a question.”

Hannibal closed his book to give Will his full attention, and Will went on. “I just...uh, are...we…” He licked his lips. “Do we have...anything to worry about?” Hannibal’s brows crinkled slightly and Will tried again. “I mean, is anyone looking for us?”

Hannibal’s expression softened. “We were assumed dead, killed by the Dragon.They will not find his body. By the time anyone finds the house it will be nothing more than broken glass and wood at the bottom of the sea.”

Will turned his head quickly to look over at the fire, not wanting to meet Hannibal’s eyes. Those words caught him like bullets to the chest for some reason. They were there, and Hannibal had told him about the eroding cliff, but he still couldn’t help but ache for the loss. It had been a beautiful house, but it was made to be disposed of eventually.. Part of his design swallowed by the ocean, just like that.

There was a sound of movement but Will didn’t want to look away from the fire, didn’t want Hannibal to see the tears pooling in his eyes. He was slightly startled to feel Hannibal’s hand on his, and when he looked over the man was down on one knee at the side of his chair and looking up into his eyes. Hannibal reached a hand up and brushed away the traitorous tears that had leaked into the corner of Will’s eye with the tip of his thumb. “You are safe here.”

Will nodded quickly and closed his eyes. “I know.” he gasped. “I know I am I know I just…”

Hannibal’s hand curved against Will’s cheek and Will leaned into the touch. He was suddenly very tired. His lungs couldn’t decide if they wanted to breathe quickly or not at all. “I think, ah, it's just….” He closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

“The reality of our situation is settling in.” He started to stand and Will gripped onto his hand. “Don’t.” He whispered quickly. Hannibal slowly reassumed his position on one knee and looked up at Will whose tears started to flow freely now. He didn’t want to cry, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t stop.

“Please don’t go please don’t go.” Will couldn’t stop the whispered words that left his lips before he could even think of what he was saying. Fear had been ghosting around him for the time he had been taking to recover, and now the switch had flipped completely on. His brain, once pacified by sleep and the protection he felt by the walls around him, was now in overdrive with all of his fears rising to the surface unexpectedly and at the same time..

_He couldn’t go back he could never go back he would never see Jack again would never see Alana again would never see Molly again would never see Walter again would never have to walk into Quantico again would never have to stand in front of a class again would never be forced to climb into someone’s mind again but would he ever see his dogs again would he ever see Wolf Trap again would he ever feel safe going outside would he ever stop looking over his shoulder would they be safe would they be safe would they be safe would they-_

The edges of his vision started to darken through his tears, and his breathing was out of control. It felt the the whole world was crashing down on him at once, intent to bury him alive. He was just barely able to register rough hands cupping his face and the muffled sound of someone’s voice.

He opened and closed his eyes hard a couple of times before rough pads of fingers brushed against his eyelashes. He wasn’t expecting it, and jerked back with a strangled sob.

“-at me. Look at me, Will. My darling, my boy, please look at me.”

Hannibal’s voice was not raised, but through his panic Will could hear the sense of urgency beneath the calm. He was worrying Hannibal. The guilt from this halted all the other ugly thoughts in his mind and he opened his eyes slowly. He had to open and shut them a couple of times before Hannibal was more than a blur.

Dark eyes stared intently at Will, hands still holding his face carefully, fingers splayed on his cheeks and temples. Will reached up and clutched at Hannibal’s wrists, fingers curling around the thin skin. The book he had been gripping through his attack slid from his lap and fell between them but Hannibal did not move, did not even flinch. 

“Breathe with me.” Hannibal said, breathing in loudly through his nose and holding it for a split second before exhaling. It took a couple of times for the shuddering breaths to settle, but Will followed Hannibal’s lead until they were breathing at the same time and it didn’t feel like drowning anymore.

“Sorry.” Will whispered, and Hannibal shook his head once sharply. “Do not apologize. Are you alright?”

Will leaned forward as if he were about to fall against Hannibal. “Give me a second.” he mumbled, closing his eyes. He felt so pathetic, sleeping all the time and he still felt tired. But Hannibal didn’t move until Will opened his eyes and sighed. 

Hannibal nodded once, as if the sigh answered a question.. “I believe it's time for bed.” And before Will could even think of getting up Hannibal leaned forward and scooped Will gently from the chair, one arm wrapped around the side of his body and the other supporting Will’s legs. The motion was so swift and abrupt that Will gasped and wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s neck.

“...my legs work you know.” He muttered, but rested his head against Hannibal’s shoulder all the same. 

Hannibal said nothing as he carried Will out of the study and down the hall to the bedroom they shared. Will’s arms sagged from around Hannibal’s neck until one was hanging over one of Hannibal’s shoulders, bouncing slightly from the walk, and the other Will curled against his chest. 

When they got to the bedroom Hannibal left the bedroom door slightly ajar and the dim hallway lights filtered in though didn’t quite reach the middle of the room. He didn’t bother with the bedroom light, leaving them shrouded in darkness. Hannibal set Will gently on his usual side of the bed and pulled the blankets up around his shoulders.

Will’s heart thudded heavily in his chest. “Where are you going?” He asked when Hannibal didn’t move to lie down next to him. His fingers twitched and he started to push the tucked blankets away, ready to follow. Hannibal put a firm hand on Will’s chest to keep him from getting up. “Here.” He said softly, and Will wasn’t sure if he meant literally or metaphorically.

Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed, keeping his hand where it was on Will’s chest. His thumb started to rub against the blanket and Will could feel it on his breast bone. He could also feel Hannibal’s eyes on him even though it was dark. The moon filtering through the bedroom window across from them did nothing more than outline shapes in the room.

They sat together in the darkness, Hannibal’s soft breathing comforting Will and lulling him back into a sense of security.

“Not gonna sleep?” He asked, his words coming out slightly slurred. The gentle and repetitive motion against his chest was calming. 

“In a moment.” Hannibal replied, and a few minutes later he moved to lie down on his usual side of the bed, pulling Will flush against his chest, his arms draped around Will loosely.

Though his body was settled, Will’s brain felt fried, tingling the way a limb does when it falls asleep before the rest of the body. It was almost like the old days and Will had to squeeze his eyes shut for a solid minute and reopen them again to make sure that it wasn’t the old days, that he hadn’t been having some long nightmare and would wake up in his bed in Wolf Trap, soaked in sweat with half of his brain inflamed, or worse in the BSHCI. 

But no matter how many times he opened and closed his eyes he was still here in this house that was inexplicably here for them. He was here with Hannibal. They were okay. He stared at the bar of light coming in from the hallway and played with the tiny hairs on the back of one of Hannibal’s hands.

“Hey, Hannibal?”

“Yes?”

Will chewed on his bottom lip nervously, wincing when the stitches in his cheek objected to the movement. “Can we still go out to town?”

He could hear the smile in the way Hannibal let out a soft breath of a laugh against the back of his neck. “Of course, my dear.”

Will nodded, mostly to himself. “Okay. Good. Tomorrow?” He stroked the back of Hannibal’s hand slowly, tracing the veins there with the tips of his fingers.

“Perhaps, if you feel you would still like to in the morning.”

“Okay.” For some reason Will felt a little relieved at hearing that. While he wasn’t looking forward to the socialization aspect of an outing he wanted to prove to himself, and maybe Hannibal too, that he wasn’t too fragile for it. 

“Will?”

“Hm?”

Hannibal’s arm tightened around Will’s waist, not enough to hurt but enough that Will could feel Hannibal’s bicep flexing against his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The shuddering breath Will felt against his ear told him more than enough.

Will held the man’s hand in both of his and squeezed gently. “I know.” he whispered. He moved closer to Hannibal, the top of his head tucking under Hannibal’s cheek in such a way that it was almost as if they were molded to fit that way.

Nothing more was said between the two that night, and it was a comfortable silence. WIll knew that Hannibal wouldn’t fall asleep before him, would keep watch over his sleep, and that helped him relax enough to start to doze. 

Hannibal was a monster, and here Will was spooned against him in some countryside home with no signs of society around them. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and he had never felt so safe before. There was something very comforting to Will in being protected by the teeth of a deadly beast.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hannibal’s own emotions were often expressed through action rather than words. There was a trail of dead bodies long enough to stretch to the moon to prove it."
> 
> In which Hannibal is embarrassed by his feelings for Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's going to be smut in this eventually. But not in this chapter. Just more of the boys being nerds in love. As always, please check the tags as they will be updated with each chapter! I should also mention all my writing is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine! Cheers!

They did not end up going to town the next day. Hannibal stayed close to the house, only leaving to go outside and chop firewood. The days in their secluded home were warm but the nights brought frost to the windows.

Will put on the French press as Hannibal walked outside, starting the coffee before standing in front of a window to watch Hannibal. He felt embarrassed about not wanting to go into town but the fear he felt the night before was still fresh. The teeth of a monster could only protect them for so long. He and Hannibal had already almost lost each other many times before. If they were caught after all that had happened he feared their luck may finally run out.

Hannibal said nothing about it or Will’s panic attack when they woke that morning. He simply kissed Will’s temple and changed into a plain shirt and work jeans before going outside to chop wood. Will watched his biceps roll and his core contract as Hannibal raised the axe, split the wood and gathering the pieces into a neat little pile. His hair brushed against his forehead and cheekbones, and Will thought he hadn’t seen Hannibal slick it back since before Florence.

Getting into the motions of putting a log on the stump and sliding the axe through it was easy. The repetitive motion was calming to Hannibal. However it was also easy to forget he too had been wounded in their fight against the Dragon. He lifted the axe again and pain shot through his side. He winced but followed through with the motion and let the split pieces fall to the ground before setting the axe down. 

Will turned away from the window and went out the back door, not bothering with any sort of shoes or the fact that he was still in just a shirt and boxers. He walked the short dirt path over to Hannibal and stood a foot away from him. His hands opened and closed frantically at his sides. “Are you alright?” 

Hannibal looked over and nodded at him wordlessly. His expression was void of any pain. Will licked his dry lips and sighed. “Come on.” He said and closed the space between them by wrapping one hand around Hannibal’s waist carefully. He was expecting some sort of protest but Hannibal just leaned into him slightly and followed him back into the house.

Once Hannibal was settled at the table with an ice back over his side Will served him coffee and sat with him. Hannibal stared at him and Will stared back.

“....what?” Will asked, brows furrowing. Hannibal smiled slightly. “Your eyes look beautiful in the sunlight.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up and Hannibal took a sip of coffee. “That was cheesy.”

It was Hannibal’s turn to raise his eyebrows. A beat of silence passed between them before they both smiled at each other like children with a secret.

Will lightly swatted at Hannibal’s knee. “How’s your side?”

“Better, thank you.”

Will rolled his eyes and took the mug from Hannibal and stole a sip of coffee. “It was just an ice pack.”

“Not to me.”

Will nearly dropped the mug onto the rug but recovered quickly. Hannibal sat with a blank look on his face for a moment longer, then stood in his usual fluid and graceful manner. “I think I’ll bring in the rest of the firewood.” He said, and set the ice pack, now slightly melted in its plastic packaging, onto the table before heading back outside.

The back door opened and clicked closed. Will was left holding the mug and staring at the empty chair across from him feeling like he somehow fucked up.

Hannibal was never one to be completely open with his true feelings. It was true that he often observed and vocalized Will’s. It had been his job, after all. But Hannibal’s own emotions were often expressed through action rather than words. There was a trail of dead bodies long enough to stretch to the moon to prove it. Will could handle the body count but for the moment he was at a loss when confronted with raw emotion. It wasn’t like he did a very good job of handling his own emotions either. So he sat and sipped coffee until the mug was empty, and then stood up. He felt like he needed to prepare for this conversation. 

First came a shower, and Will was still very grateful for them. While his wounds healed and he had been on strict bedrest it had been only baths carefully given by Hannibal, and while Hannibal had kept him very clean there was something about a good shower.

He rubbed a bar of soap between his hands and set it on the shelf in front of him before closing his eyes and scrubbing the lather over his face. The dark behind his eyelids and water pelting him made memories resurface of a night where rain fell heavy and mixed with blood on tile and concrete. 

_“I let you see me.”_

The memory punched him in the chest like an unexpected bullet. He blinked and immediately regretted it when suds slid right into his eyes and stung them. Wincing, he rubbed at them furiously until the burning subsided. 

Now Will remembered why this feeling was familiar to him. He had felt it before in Hannibal’s kitchen the night everything came apart. Despite his effort to save Hannibal and everyone else, Hannibal didn’t want to be saved. He wanted to be understood. He wanted Will to understand him, to run with him. In those last few weeks Hannibal had dropped all pretenses and opened himself up for Will to look at him in a way few had seen before.

In the back of his mind Will wondered about Bedelia.

He finished washing himself and grabbed his hanging towel from the hook next to the shower, wrapping it around his waist and going in search of Hannibal. He didn’t care about the water sliding off his skin and leaving puddles in his wake. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t mind either.

Hannibal was putting more cut wood on the pile inside when Will found him. When he turned around Will saw a few strands of sweat dripping down his forehead. Will thought it made him look more human. Hannibal wiped the sweat away with the back of his hand. He stared intently at Will and said nothing.

“I’m sorry.” Will said softly.

“Don’t be.” Hannibal said, looking to the firewood and nudging a couple of pieces so they aligned with the rest of the pile. “It was a momentary lapse on my part.”

Will couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Hannibal. I’m here, aren’t I? We’re here. We nearly died getting here, but we’re here.” He strode over and held Hannibal’s face between his hands, so close their chests touched, and Hannibal let him. His eyes flashed to Will’s lips for a split second before looking back into his eyes. 

“You can trust me.” Will whispered feverently, fingertips digging slightly into Hannibal’s cheeks. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

It felt like they stood there forever, Hannibal barely breathing and Will’s heart stuttering in his chest. It was the longest silence he could recall between them. They always had something to say to each other, snipping at each other or speaking in low tones, but now…

The time for words was long past. There were already so many things said back and forth between them. So many secrets that bound them together. So why was this so hard?

Will pressed his lips against Hannibal’s and it felt like falling over the cliff all over again. Hannibal didn’t kiss back so Will continued to kiss him over and over. They were soft, sweet kisses. Some were longer than others. Though Hannibal didn’t kiss back Will could feel his body start to relax against his. Will smiled and kissed him again and again.

“I’m here.” A kiss.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Another kiss.

“Let me see you.” 

This time Hannibal did kiss back. He held the back of Will’s head with one hand and kissed him so hard that Will could feel the pressure of it down to his toes. He gasped against Hannibal’s lips and let his eyes flutter closed.

When Hannibal finally broke the kiss, still holding onto the back of Will’s head he jerked Will’s neck slightly so his lips were against the curve of Will’s ear. “You have always been able to see me.” He mumbled softly. “I don’t believe I could stop you if I tried.”

Will shivered. “Would you ever try? Would you have it any other way?”

Hannibal shook his head once. He pressed his forehead against Will’s temple and inhaled. “I remember a time before you. While I would be able to go back to a life without you in it, I find it would be rather dull.”

Will snorted. “Thanks.” He said sarcastically but reached up and curled his fingers in Hannibal’s hair all the same. 

“And you? Would you have it any other way?”

“No.” Will didn’t have to think about it. “If you never showed up I would still be working with Jack. Profiling. Hallucinating. Unraveling.”

“Someone would have noticed your illness.”

“Maybe. Eventually. But who knows how long that would have taken?” Will stroked Hannibal’s hair slowly in thought as he allowed himself to visualize the past. What was. What might have been. He imagined it would have ended with him under Chilton’s ‘care’ eventually, except he would have blood on his hands, and this time he would be alone. “You kept me safe in your own twisted way. You contained me, watched over me.” He smiled a little. “And you always will, won’t you?”

Will let the past fall away and imagined the future. Feeding this newly freed hunger. Being fed by Hannibal. Hannibal over his shoulder as he worked. Working alongside Hannibal. Their hands, their lives covered in blood. Together.

Hannibal tilted his head down slightly and pressed a kiss to Will’s cheek.

“Always.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had not made it this far by being unprepared. But somehow he still felt taken by surprise by his own feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhhhheyyy...
> 
> So basically life happened. Terrible flu, my partner had to have emergency dental stuff, it was a whirlwind of unexpected things! But here is another chapter! Yay! Thank you all for your patience, kudos and comments! I hope ya'll enjoy and don't forget to check the tags as they will be updated with each chapter!

The two men fell into a routine fairly easily. Hannibal traveled into town twice a week for groceries. Will chopped firewood once a week, usually when Hannibal had gone. They rarely ate breakfast together since Will was not awake as early as Hannibal usually was, but they ate lunch together fairly often, and dinner….

After about a month, and here Will was guessing at the time, when Will’s wounds didn’t need to be bandaged anymore Hannibal slowly began to breathe back the life into the dinners he prepared. While he never lowered his standards or the quality of his food his flourish had been missing. He had been careful not to leave Will’s side other than to go into town for supplies. When they were both in the house Hannibal was always within arm’s reach of Will, quiet and waiting to supply Will with whatever he may need. 

This meant that meals, while still delicious and filling, took less time to prepare so Will would not be kept waiting. Often times Hannibal prepared meals in advance and kept them in the refrigerator or freezer so it would take even less time later. Whether it was because Hannibal had busied himself with caring for Will or if he had momentarily lost his passion, Will had no idea. But he was surprised at how he found himself grinning when he walked downstairs one night to find the kitchen light on, some grand concerto playing softly in the background and Hannibal gliding around the kitchen floor with an apron tied around his waist as he seasoned, stirred and sampled.

Will kept hidden and silently peered around the doorway lest he break the spell and bring Hannibal’s grand performance to a halt. While he had appreciated Hannibal taking care of him day and night seeing him back in the kitchen, in his element, was comforting. Like coming home.

That night, and every night afterward, Hannibal would shower, dress, set the table and wander about the house until he found Will to announce dinner time and help him to the table with a gentle arm around his shoulders. Will would take his seat to the right of the head of the table and listen as Hannibal set down each course with a description of what feast lay in front of him. 

Will did not mention that it had been quite a while since Hannibal took up an apron. Instead he thanked the man each night after the plates were set in front of him and waited until Hannibal sat down at the head of the table. They both unfurled their cloth napkins in a messy synchronization and then began to eat.

As Will got stronger he would head to the kitchen of his own accord when he smelled the tell-tale signs of Hannibal preparing their dinner for the night. He would go quietly into the kitchen, careful not to get in the way of Hannibal’s fluid movement, and wrap two sets of cutlery in a cloth napkin. Sometimes Hannibal would lean over from his preparations and press a soft kiss to Will’s cheek, his wordless thanks, before continuing to finish dinner. Will would smile silently and head to the dining room and put the wrapped utensils to their respective places, then wait.

One night to Will’s surprise Hannibal stopped him as he was wrapping the napkins up. “Might I bother you to taste this?” Hannibal asked, holding a spoon up with a hand underneath it. Taken aback slightly Will nodded, leaning forward and letting Hannibal feed him the sample of soup. He let the taste linger on his tongue only half paying attention to what he was tasting and trying to remember if Hannibal had ever asked for his opinion on food before.

“It tastes good to me.” Will said, hoping it was the right answer. Hannibal smiled at him. “Thank you. I thought I may have added too little salt but I was not entirely sure.”

Will’s eyebrows rose slightly and he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows slightly, though he did not look away from the pot. “What?”

“That you weren’t sure. About food or….anything, really.”

Hannibal turned back to the stove and stirred, his smile still lingering. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you to stay? I may need you to taste again.”

Will set the napkins down and leaned against the counter to watch Hannibal cook. Every night after that one Hannibal would ask him to taste one or two things. Eventually Will began to stay in the kitchen and watch Hannibal until the food was done whether or not he was asked to. 

He thought of teasing Hannibal for wanting him so close all the time, and often times it was on the tip of his tongue. The warmth of Hannibal’s earned trust always stopped him though. Will remembered a time when he thought he would never get it back and so he swallowed down his words.

\-----

Hannibal was the early riser of the two of them. 

He never needed much sleep. His years in the orphanage to becoming an on-call surgeon had enabled him to function on only a few hours of it. His brand of art also called for late nights, the cloak of night allowing him time to hide and create while the world slept away.

It also allowed him to tend to Will. Though his own wound needed time to heal Will was the worse off of the two. His body was ravaged with exhaustion. Hannibal had to wonder if Molly ever woke to Will covered in sweat, tossing and turning. The thought of her comforting him through his terrors made Hannibal grind his teeth together. He pushed it away as far as he could.

There was no need for irrational jealousy. It was the two of them now. Together and alone.

While Hannibal tried not to crowd Will while he recovered he always made sure to stay close. He knew the complications the seawater might bring to Will’s wounds. He kept vigil in the chair next to Will’s bed as if those complications might come in physical forms through the bedroom door and Hannibal would be able to fend them off.

Or in case other complications, ones with badges and handcuffs, arrived and surprised them.

It was very unlikely though. This safe house was one of many Hannibal kept in his back pocket for just such occasions. He had countless others under different names. Practically untraceable.

He had not made it this far by being unprepared. But somehow he still felt taken by surprise by his own feelings.

As Will recovered Hannibal inched closer and closer to the bed in his chair. They had not had time to discuss boundaries, or the status of their relationship, or even if it had changed at all. For once in his life Hannibal fumbled with finding a label for he and Will. It felt ridiculous, juvenile. He often shut off and filed those feelings away when he caught himself tangled in them. But when Will looked at him from his side of the bed in the soft glow of the lamps or in the bright light of the sun those thoughts somehow spilled over into the forefront of his mind and sent his heart beating wildly.

He didn’t blush, or smile shyly. In fact from Will’s perspective whenever he caught Hannibal staring at him it was with a blank, unreadable expression. There were no clues Hannibal was giving away at all. At first Will thought he had done something wrong, something that offended Hannibal, but what was offensive about sitting in a chair and reading or lying in bed?

Hannibal didn’t seem at all embarrassed when Will caught him staring, either. And each time Will asked what he was staring at Hannibal would deploy a smile and apologize before going back to whatever he had been doing before. 

It was maddening.

Enough so that one night as Hannibal prepared dinner, Will blurted, “Why are you always staring at me?”

Hannibal’s brows furrowed together as he diced onions. “I apologize, I hadn’t realized I was doing it.”

Will groaned inwardly. “Not right now! Other times! You just….” He waved his arms in an up and down motion and then clapped his hands over his face. Hannibal’s eyes widened and he stared at Will openly now. “Are you alright?”

“No!” Will barked, his palms muffling his voice. “Yes! I don’t know! What’s going on with you?”

Hannibal looked back down at the cutting board. “Currently I-”

“The staring!” Will slid his hands away from his face and crossed his arms across his chest. “I don’t get why you’re always staring at me! Did I do something wrong? Am I doing something wrong?”

They both stared at each other. For a long moment the only sound in the kitchen was a sizzling pan of meat. Slowly the blank look slid onto Hannibal’s features and Will pointed accusingly at him. “There! That. That right there. What is that?”

“Please don’t point. It’s terribly r-”

“Staring is pretty damn rude too, you know.”

Hannibal set down his knife and wiped his hands on his apron. “I apologize.” He murmured, his eyes averted to the tiled floor. Will crossed his arms again and sighed. “You don’t have to apologize. I just don’t understand why.”

This was ridiculous. Hannibal was acting like a child. He could very well articulate an answer for Will. He could even articulate several very untrue answers for Will, send him down a different path of reactions. This particular horse could very easily be led to water. Hannibal had done it many a time. But he wasn’t so sure he could make the horse drink.

He had let Will see him. Will knew him, perhaps better than anyone. He would know a false lead if Hannibal gave him one. Maybe not immediately but he was smart. He would figure it out. And then what?

In truth, Hannibal was tired. Here was a man who he had invested so much time into, so many resources. Here was this man who broke Hannibal’s mold and became something even more beautiful. This man who exceeded all Hannibal’s expectations, who chased after him, who risked death, who killed for him. And still Hannibal hesitated.

Was there no greater proof of trust than blood between monsters?

Hannibal supposed Will had proven himself trustworthy again. Though he would never forget the pain of Will’s betrayal the pride he felt when they stood together over the body of the Red Dragon superseded it. Like the sun reappearing after an eclipse.

Will felt his heart jolt in his chest as he watched Hannibal take the knife up again. Though instead of the bloody scenarios Will conjured up in the split second of fear, Hannibal returned to dicing the onion. “Let us discuss it another day.” He said calmly. “Please turn the stove off. The meat will be overdone.”

Instead of giving voice to the many protests wanting to burst through his chest cavity, Will reached over and turned the fire off.

Dinner was perfect, as usual.


End file.
